


The Revenge I Deserve

by mostmagicalf_kingunicorn41_43110



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fighting, Fights, Fist Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Protective Tharn Thara Kirigun, Type Thiwat Phawattakun Is a Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostmagicalf_kingunicorn41_43110/pseuds/mostmagicalf_kingunicorn41_43110
Summary: Type gets roughed up at the university one day by a group of assholes calling him and his well-known relationship with Tharn disgusting and unnatural.Thinking he deserves a little repercussion for the way he treated Tharn when he first found out Tharn was gay, he doesn't fight back too much. He lets them say their piece and leave.He doesn't tell Tharn it ever happened. At least not until the guilt of hiding it threatens to eat him alive and suddenly Type tells Tharn everything.
Relationships: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 28
Kudos: 565





	The Revenge I Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! I basically wrote this little fic as a gift to me (lol I know) for writing and posting 25 stories on this site!
> 
> Yes, I understand it's a little unprecedented to celebrate something like this, especially when there are so many accounts out there who have written and posted way more than I have, but I didn't do this for them. I did this because I'm damn proud of myself and my work here.
> 
> Also when I finished this story I thought it was pretty cute and I figured I should share it, haha :)
> 
> Please enjoy!
> 
> (P.S. Rating for violence and language. Don't like; Don't read :)

Type dropped his bag on the concrete.

The resounding thump of his books crumpling against the ground echo in his mind as the realization of what the shit is happening rings true.

Oh.

"What did you just call me?" Type curled his fists.

It was true.

"Gay!" The one directly in front of him stepped up.

The one behind him to his left continued. "You're a little faggot, aren't you?"

He and Tharn were in a gay relationship.

"Trying to deny it?" The back one to his right, laughed.

"Everyone knows about you," the fourth and final one shoved his shoulder, "and your fucking gay ass boyfriend." Another shove.

All things considered that was true too. It's been four years at this point, everyone on campus knew.

Type let himself stumble. He glared at the ground. Burned a hole into the feet of the one in front of him. It didn't help.

He was never as bad as this, was he?

Type remembered the things he said and did to Tharn before everything. Before Tharn helped him, saved him.

Maybe he deserved this.

"You sick piece of shit motherfucker!" The one to Type's right kicked his bag at him. It hit his shin.

He flinched under the impact but didn't otherwise move.

"You think it's okay to be what you are?" They pushed him again. "Huh?"

"Talk faggot!" A kick to the leg, but it was lousy. Even Techno could kick harder than that.

"You got some nerve cocksucker." The one in front crossed arms and curled his lips. "Displaying your gay relationship around the way you do. Thinking no one like us would notice." He backhanded Type across the face.

Type's eyes stayed to the floor. Every fiber of his being wanted to fight back. But Tharn never fought back, did he? Back then, no, not until Type went too far. Tharn just wasn't the kind of man to fight back, even when he knew he could win.

The four boys around him laughed.

"What is it fag?" One of them smacked the back of his head. "Not talking anymore?"

"What's the problem?" The other one shoved him forward. "Dick in your mouth?" He and another laughed at his joke.

Type ran into the asshole in front of him from the shove, he looked him right in the eyes. He was unafraid, they both knew it. But he wasn't protesting anymore.

The kid grabbed him by the collar and shook him.

"Think you're better than us, freak?" He questioned shaking Type again. "You're sick." He spit at the ground near Type. "You're unfit to eat the shit off my shoe."

He threw Type to the ground.

Type caught himself, finding the boys closing in on him as they hovered over.

One of them reared to kick him but the one who threw him down stopped the blow. "Not the face," he ordered, "wouldn't want that fags boyfriend tracking us down."

So they were afraid of Tharn? Duly noted.

\---

Type had blocked most of their blows with his arms, he had major bruises running down both of his forearms so he unrolled his sleeves to hide them. Also taking off his shirt or pants in front of Tharn was out of the question. He hadn't seen his legs yet, but his torso and back were pretty bad. Even the pressure of wearing his backpack was too much after a while, so he took to carrying it with his hands.

He'd already been to the nurse, nothing was broken, he was just bruised and sore all over. His knee also felt a little hinky so, yes, he was limping but it wasn't too noticeable.

Of course when it came to Type, Tharn noticed everything so he'd have to be careful when he got home. Tharn couldn't find out about this, and Type had an entire list of reasons why.

A) he could fight his own damn battles, thank you, he didn't need a fucking hero. B) Tharn would worry way too much. It'd be better for both of them if he just didn't know. C) This was a one-time thing, no need for any kind of fuss. It's over, and anyway there's nothing to be done about it. Time to let go and forget. D) Tharn would most likely find out who did it, even though Type personally didn't know or recognize a single one of them, and would start another fight just because, and Type didn't need his stupid boyfriend getting expelled over something as dipshit as this. E) Type was pretty damn sure he deserved it for the way he'd treated Tharn back then anyway. Karma's a bitch, and all that.

At least these are all the reasons Type could come up with on the journey home. Now he was repeating them to himself like a mantra.

Deep down, there was only one thing that was holding Type's tongue. Reason F) Truth is, Type wouldn't be able to look Tharn in the eye if he were to see the state he was in. He'd feel guilty for holding back in the fight, guilty for making Tharn worry about him, guilty for treating Tharn exactly like this before.

Type trudge up to their condo, slipping in the elevator. His muscles were stiff beyond belief, he didn't know how he was supposed to survive practice tomorrow, he could hardly stretch without wincing in pain.

The elevator let him off on his floor and he approached his and Tharn's door with great hesitation.

He took a moment to look at the boring paint on their door, the familiar condo numbers, the tiny peep hole staring back at him and sighed.

Well shit. Here goes nothing.

Type pulled his key and let himself in. Tharn was watching TV it seemed.

"I--" Type stopped himself from announcing his presence, the later he could put this off, the better.

He removed his shoes and set his bag down by Tharn's work desk.

Tharn was sitting in the living room behind their coffee table on the floor, leaning against their couch. He had one knee up and his hands were clasped together around that knee. He turned as Type walked up to him slowly, and smiled.

"Oh, Type." Tharn moved over for him to sit. "I didn't hear you come in."

Type nodded and sat down on the couch, being close to Tharn but not too close. "Mm."

Tharn made up for the distance by scooting closer to Type's legs and leaning against them. Type scrunched his face when Tharn unknowingly hit a bruise but suppressed his groan of protest.

"Have you eaten?" Tharn looked up and asked.

Type quickly schooled his expression and shook his head. "Not yet."

"Did you want me to order something?" Tharn stood, going over to where his phone was charging on his night stand. "I can get us our usual from that restaurant down the street."

Type nodded and stretched, forgetting his pain, the bruises did well to remind him. He choked mid-yawn and drew in his sore limbs, foregoing the stretch. He turned the choke into a small cough and cleared his throat.

"Yes, that sounds good." Type stood and walked by Tharn, "I'm gonna go take a sh--" Type bit his lip hard. He couldn't help the whimper of pain that escaped his lips. He was lucky it was too quiet to be heard.

Tharn wrapped his big strong arms around Type's poor, abused torso and held him close.

"I feel like I haven't seen you all day." Tharn pouted as he kissed Type's neck. "Let me hold you." He requested, completely unaware of the pain he was causing Type.

Type breathed through his nose and blinked away the pain radiating from everywhere they touched. He stayed as still as possible keeping his arms suspended from touching Tharn.

"Type?" Tharn tried to look over Type's shoulder at his face, but Type's head was turned away from him. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Type shook his head. "I'm just a little sore. Practice ran long today."

"Oh." Tharn didn't know what to make of it. "Alright."

"I'm gonna take my shower now." Type removed Tharn's arms without looking at him.

"Okay."

Type couldn't look at Tharn. He knew what he would be facing if he did, and he didn't want to see the confusion or the disappointment crossing Tharn's features.

After he set up his shower to the preferred temperature, he stripped down and looked at all of the damage for the first time.

The worst bruises that were glaring ugly at him in hues of purples, and yellows were along his torso and arms, which meant he’d already seen the worst of it, but the bruises down his legs, though less dramatic, were more populated. He couldn’t wear shorts in front of Tharn for the next few days at least. Tharn picked him up after practice, what was he supposed to do?

He sighed wondering how he was supposed to figure all this out as he stepped into the spray of the shower, checking to make sure he’d locked the door first.

The rest of the night he avoided touching Tharn as much as he could, but his boyfriend was a very clingy person, he naturally liked to cuddle close to Type when doing almost everything. With the long sleeve and sweatpants pajama combo, cuddling with Tharn under their sheets in bed was not an option. It was way too damn hot for that shit. He was sure that if he allowed that, he was gonna suffocate in his sleep. So he slept away from Tharn that night and felt the loss. He was sure Tharn did too, and every time it looked or sounded like Tharn was concerned, Type would evade, deflect or shut down anything Tharn would say or ask.

For the next full week, Type continued to avoid Tharn in these small ways as much as possible and it was doing the opposite of what Type wanted; it was only growing Tharn’s worry. The whole point of this was to avoid worry. The bruises had been starting to heal nicely and Type figured now would be as good a time as any to come clean.

Type reasoned that it was time because it was too late to do anything about this on Tharn’s part, so even if he wanted to, which Type knew he would, he couldn't start anything, and really, Type was just exhausted with keeping up this whole charade. At this point he’s been chalking all his weird behavior up to being overly tired due to school or soccer and it’s getting old and frankly unbelievable. If there was anything to learn from this terrible, awful week it was that Type now knew for absolute certain that he _hated_ lying to Tharn.

It was currently causing him more pain than the bruises ever did and it wasn’t even stopping Tharn’s concerns, which was the whole damn point.

Type had his mind made. He was telling Tharn. Today.

///

"Just--" Type sighed as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "Please don't freak out too much."

Tharn was standing across from him in their small living room a few feet away, just in front of their bed. His eyes were wide with confusion but he wasn't stopping him, so Type continued undressing.

Type, when his shirt was fully unbuttoned, pulled down his pants, kicking them off, these bruises were easier. They were shrinking a lot faster than the bruises on his torso. And they were mostly yellow which blended into his tanned skin making them look less serious.

Then Type took a breath looking at the floor before he closed his eyes and peeled off his shirt.

Tharn's gasp fell out of his lips as Type's shirt fell to the floor. Both landing together at Type's feet.

Type looked down at himself. Maybe they were better than that first day? Well shit.

The bruises on his torso really fucked him over. They were huge and expansive, some were still fucking purple. Those guys really didn't hold back around his stomach or his lower back. His arms were in a similar state. Large bruises, blue and green and angry still.

"Oh my god-- Type!" Tharn stepped forward swiftly stopping right in front of Type. Type couldn't look Tharn in the eyes. Guilt flooded his heart and hung his head. "Oh Type." Tharn breathed out harshly. His voice was wet with emotions, he couldn't take his eyes off his beautiful boyfriend's tarnished skin.

Large hands with gentle fingers gingerly ran over bare skin.

Type nodded, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I know." Tharn didn't say anything as he let his fingers roam the otherwise smooth flesh. Type grunted with a laugh when Tharn hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Tharn jerked back in an instant. Apology already spilling out.

"No, this is nothing." Type assured. "That first day, when you hugged me from behind right before I took my shower." Type smiled up at Tharn. "That hurt like a bitch."

"Oh my god." Tharn searched his memory. Type saw the moment Tharn understood when he meant as he watched the horror strike Tharn's face. "Oh my god!"

"Hey, hey, no." Type stepped up to his retreating boyfriend. He held Tharn's face in his hands, hating the tears that started welling up in those wide, scared eyes. Type shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. Okay? Not your fault. You didn't know."

"I- I didn't know. I didn't know." Tharn swallowed thickly, shaking his head in Type's hands. He looked down at the floor in shame. "Why?" Tharn suddenly snapped his head back up, looking at Type with a serious expression. "Why didn't I know?!"

"Because there was nothing we could do." Type said helplessly. "I still don't know who those guys were that did this to me. I didn't recognize them and they never said their names."

"We could have done something, Type!" Tharn argued, pulling Type's hands off of him. "We could have complained to the school. Or called the police. We could have looked for them--"

"Tharn, no." Type said softly. "It was over. Long over by the time I made it home. There was nothing to be done so why dwell on it?"

"You don't think this would be the kind of thing to tell me about instantly?" Tharn was angry, but on the verge of tears. "Look at what they did to you!"

"I didn't want you to worry, Tharn! It was my problem to deal with." Type said strongly.

"How many people are in this relationship?" Tharn asked rhetorically. "Just you?"

"Don't be an ass." Type snapped.

"I'm being an ass?" Tharn couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes!" Type shouted.

"You should have told me about this the second it happened!" Tharn insisted. "Called me to help you! Or done something other than keep quiet about it!"

Type shook his head. "You and I both know what would have happened if either of us would have 'done something' about it. It would have just started another stupid fight and risked expulsion. No."

"So that's it then?" Tharn backed up. "You go and decide not to tell me the truth. And that's just it, I have no say? I just sit back like an idiot not even knowing that you're suffering. My own goddamn boyfriend."

"It wasn't your fault." Type said again, strongly. More angrily this time. "It wasn't your decision, and it's not your pain. It's mine."

"I can't even believe you right now." Tharn shook his head. "I can't believe how fundamentally selfish you're being about all of this. 'It's my cross to bear.' Like I have no part in your life. Like I mean nothing to you."

"You know that's not true!" Type threw his voice across the room. He could feel his heart beating harshly in his chest. It sounded in his ears, a dull, repetetive thud. He hated lying to Tharn yes, but fighting with Tharn would always be the worst thing ever. 

"You lied to me all week." Tharn started in a low voice after a heated breath of pause. "Worried me until I could hardly think. Avoided me every time I got near you. Made me believe it was something _I_ did wrong!" He hit his own chest with an open hand.

"I'm sorry!" Type threw out his arms. "Are you happy now? I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry I waited to tell you! I'm sorry about everything! It's my fault!"

Tharn turned around. He couldn't look at Type.

Type breathed out and dropped his arms. Glaring at Tharn's back.

For a heated moment neither moved.

Then Type looked around the room and roughly grabbed his pants. He felt ridiculous fighting with Tharn in just his underwear.

He had just buttoned his jeans together when Tharn turned back around.

"Why now?" He asked roughly. "Why today?"

Type shrugged. "I was tired of lying to you." Tharn scoffed and shook his head, Type blinked up at him in disbelief. What, that wasn't a good enough answer? Fine. "And I knew it would be too late for you to do anything stupid if I waited at least a week to tell you."

"Thank you." Tharn said sarcastically. "And I'm sorry if caring about my boyfriend makes me stupid."

Type rolled his eyes. "That's not what I--"

"I don't want to hear it, Type." Tharn cut him off. 

He slowly walked over to his work desk, passing an immovable Type as he went to grab his wallet and keys.

Type briefly panicked at the sound of Tharn leaving. He spun around to face him.

"Where are you going?" He questioned.

"Out." Tharn kicked his shoes on, going for the door. "I need to think."

"Like hell you will, shitty boyfriend." Type went after him. "We still need to talk--"

"You know what really sucks?" Tharn suddenly turned to face Type as he stepped past their open door, slow tears were creeping down his face. The alarming sight struck Type in the chest so hard, he almost stood back. "It's not just that you didn't tell me, or even that you lied. What really sucks is knowing that somewhere on campus, sometime last week, someone out there was hurting you, and I'm such a useless, _shitty boyfriend,_ " Tharn threw Type's words back at him and it fucking hurt, "that I wasn't there to protect the person I love the most. So maybe I get why you did it, Type. I would be ashamed of me too." Tharn nodded before closing the door behind him.

Type was so angry at both himself and Tharn, and so hurt by his own guilt that he couldn't move. He curled his fists so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"God," Type gasped out in quiet rage, his own tear falling down as he closed his eyes tightly. "Damn it!"

He shouted out with a growl punching the wall in aggression.

"You fucking asshole, Tharn!" Type yelled as loud as he could at the door. He walked back into their apartment, staring at Tharn's side of the bed. "Come back."

///

It was much, much later in the night when Tharn finally returned home. Type had already changed, showered and slipped into bed. He was currently curled under the blankets facing the wall away from Tharn's side of the bed, fully awake with his eyes closed. He had heard the second their door opened.

He listened to the sounds Tharn made as he brushed, showered, changed and prepared for bed. Only, Tharn didn't get into bed as Type thought he would when he approached. He was still walking around their room. Then Type heard the footsteps walk up to him. Then there was a warm looming presence right in front of his face.

Type suddenly wished he hadn't laid so far away from Tharn's side, then he wouldn't be so close to the real Tharn right now.

A hand came down on top of his head, long fingers threaded through his hair and pushed his raven locks back, away from his face. Tharn sighed heavily and Type could hear the weight of his thoughts with the breath.

"I'm still so mad at you, you stubborn, _stubborn_ boy." Tharn whispered to him softly. His voice so clear in the piercing silence. "Ai'Type. Why must you torture my heart like this? I hate seeing you in so much pain. I hate that you hid this pain from me for so long."

Type kept himself from reacting to the strong words Tharn spoke, though it was very difficult. He just had a sneaking suspicion that if Tharn knew he was awake, he wouldn't be indulging right now. So he stayed still as the dead, enjoying the touch to his hair guided by warm hands.

Tharn sighed again into the empty night, he was shifting, the hand in his hair stopped moving, holding back his strands as Tharn moved. In the next moment Type felt a soft, lingering kiss being pressed to his temple. Type held his breath as a panicked last resort to keep himself from moving. After a few patient seconds, Tharn rose again, continuing his stimulation to Type's hair as before. Type breathed.

"I might be so mad at you," Tharn spoke again after a silence, "but I still love you, Type. More than anything. More than my own anger."

Type wanted to say it back, he wanted so badly to have this fighting be done. He wanted to reach out and grab tightly onto Tharn's shirt. He wanted to glare up at the man he loved and say that he loved him back. Even though he too, was still angry. More than anything he wanted to apologize.

But Type did none of these things. He stayed still, quiet as the night as Tharn finally walked away. Type felt the loss in his hair. On his face, around his body as the warmth of Tharn slipped away with every new footstep. Type listened as Tharn walked around to his side of the bed, finally feeling the familiar dip of the mattress as Tharn laid down beside him. Away from him. Of all the nights this week Type had spent away from Tharn, this was the coldest. The emptiest. All Type wanted to do was roll over and go to him, but he stayed still.

\---

Type couldn't sleep as he tried.

He's been drifting on the edge of consciousness for hours now but try as he might, he just couldn't fall asleep. 

He didn't know how long it'd been since Tharn went to bed, he just knew it's been awhile. If Type didn't know any better, he'd say Tharn was asleep right now. He definitely should be asleep, it's been long enough. But somehow Type felt that he wasn't alone in his restlessness.

Type shifted his position again, rolling onto his back. He sighed deeply and let sleep overtake him…

Only it didn't.

He growled softly and brought his hands to his face. He rubbed his tired features, blinking up at the ceiling. He just wanted to go to sleep.

Type turned his head towards Tharn.

Tharn was still facing away from him. He hadn't moved since he laid down. Type would've felt it if he had. But no.

Type sighed and stared back up at the ceiling, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Tharn?" He said aloud, not expecting an answer. "I can't do this." He shook his head and covered his eyes, resting his arm over his face, leaving his mouth free. "Tharn if you're awake, don't say anything, even after I'm done. I won't be able to speak if I know you can hear me." Type instructed softly.

And Type waited. For a long time Type waited to work up the courage to start talking. He just breathed in the silence. The chances were high that Tharn was awake and listening, Type knew that, and it was somehow easier knowing that he was, even though if Tharn spoke right now he knew he'd close up instantly. The hardest part was just getting started. But he had to get this out. He had to. He moved his arm, clasping his hands together at his stomach and stared at the ceiling.

"That day, I could have-- I--" Type swallowed thickly. "Fuck I can't do this." He rubbed his eyes again, and swallowed, forcing the emotions from his chest and throat to subside some. It didn't really help. "I could have fought back." Type finally admitted. It felt good to say, but now it was out there. "Shit." Type cussed quietly and sat up. He moved his legs over the side of the bed, but didn't stand. He just sat there, facing away from Tharn as he confessed. Like a coward.

"There were four guys. At first I didn't know why they cornered me." Type explained softly. "But then one of them--" he stopped himself, his voice was wavering, he needed to pull this together. He shook his head. "it doesn't matter. The point is, they weren't anything special. They were about my height, my weight and they couldn't fight for shit. I could've fought back when they attacked me, but I didn't." 

Type paused. Not really sure how he should continue but this really was lifting a weight in his chest. Letting it all out. Even if Tharn was genuinely asleep, as unlikely as that seemed, this was still good for him to do, so he kept going.

"They yelled at me, pushed me around, hit me. Finally one of them threw me on the ground and they all kicked the shit out of me till they were satisfied. And I just let them. I didn't even say a word and you know how hard that is for me. I just let them do everything because--" Type's breath hitched. His voice broke on that last word unexpectedly. He tried swallowing down his emotions, but he was just sorry.

More than anything else he was just so sorry he ever felt this way towards anyone. Towards gays. He used to hate gays with his whole being. He hated everything about them. They were perverts, in his mind. Disgusting filth. Like what he'd been called. And now he was a gay. And no, when he hated gays, he never went so far as this. He never hurt anyone because of his hatred-- except for Tharn. Shit.

Type drew in a difficult breath. "I let them do it because I deserved it." That broke him. He let out a choked sob as he finished his sentence.

The tears fell over the ridges of his walls and spilled freely.

"I deserved it." Type repeated shaking his head. He was ashamed of himself. Of the man he used to be.

He covered his hiccuping mouth and just cried. What else was there to be said? Nothing. He'd confessed. He deserved it. And as awful as it was, as terrible as he felt, the sense of relief that washed over him made everything worth it.

Type jumped greatly when he felt a hand at his shoulder.

He spun around to face Tharn, who was most certainly awake, his tears matched Type's and he was looking back at Type with such a strong mix of emotions, but he was mostly looking at him with love, a love that Type did not deserve.

Type closed his eyes when Tharn's hand came up to caress his cheek, he leaned into the touch, grabbing Tharn's wrist like a lifeline as he cried out openly.

Tharn moved to sit next to Type on the edge of the bed. He gently guided Type's head to his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around him. Type willingly went into Tharn's embrace.

Type held Tharn tightly to himself, gasping loudly against warm skin, letting his heart ring out in the open air. And Tharn held him through it all.

"I'm sorry, Tharn." Type hiccuped over his words. He closed his eyes harder and buried himself further, pulling Tharn closer. "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh, baby. Don't apologize." Tharn gently hushed. He stroked Type's hair as he held the shaking boy close. But he didn't know. He didn't know what Type was apologizing for. "Good boy." Tharn praised as Type cried into his shoulder. "Good boy."

Type took Tharn's words and stayed quiet while he let everything out. He still had more to say, but this is what he needed for now. Tharn was always giving him everything he needed.

Hours, or minutes, or years later, when Type felt okay enough to speak, he tried to tell Tharn what he meant, but Tharn hushed him again. He left the bed with a promise of returning shortly. So Type waited for him. Trusting his words. He felt the loss of strength, of warmth, as Tharn left. And he was more physically exhausted now than he'd been all week so if nothing else, this was gonna clear his sleeping problem right up. Type felt ready to pass out.

When Tharn did return, it was with items that he set down on Type's bed stand. The items included a small basin of water filled about halfway, two rags; one wet, one dry, and four water bottles.

Tharn took his seat beside Type again and got to work cleaning Type's face of the snot and tears. When Type was all clean, he pressed the cool rag over Type's burning eyes, letting it rest there for a few precious moments before doing the same to Type's forehead and cheeks.

The rag felt heavenly resting against Type's skin. His entire face was burning sore and aching every time he moved but the rag did much to alleviate the pain. Much too soon for Type's liking, Tharn pulled the rag away from his face.

He reached over and grabbed two of the water bottles, opening and handing the first one to Type before he opened his own.

Together they drank their water, and Tharn didn't allow Type to put it down or speak until the whole thing was finished for both of them. He set the empty bottles aside and pulled the other two. Repeating the process of opening Type's for him, then Tharn finally let Type speak after Type had taken at least one sip from the new bottle.

"It was because I'm gay now." Type finally said. His voice was hoarse and he spoke barely above a whisper, but they didn't need anything more than his whisper. "They called me a fag. Said I was disgusting for being with you."

"Why do you say you deserve it then?" Tharn questioned. His hand moved to hold Type's. "You know what they were saying was wrong. What they did was wrong."

Type nodded in agreement. "Yes, it was. But I was like them once. I used to hate gays, hate you, for being this way." He explained. "I hurt you because of it. Like they hurt me."

"Oh Type." Tharn shook his head, he brought his hands to Type's face. "But that's different."

"It's not." Type insisted.

"I forgave you." Tharn said strongly. "I forgave you every time."

"That doesn't mean I wasn't wrong." Type argued. "Now I've finally felt the pain I've caused."

"This is not justice." Tharn let go of Type. "Look at me." He stopped talking until Type looked up at him. "This was not justice for your past mistakes. When someone is forgiven, it's true that the past doesn't change, but their debt is filled. It was already over the moment you said that you were sorry all those years ago." Tharn shook his head. "Silly boy. You don't even know. Don't you understand? I already got my revenge on you."

Such harsh words surprised Type. He sat back. "What? When?"

"My revenge was loving you." Tharn whispered. "I loved you, and loved you with all of my heart until I broke you. I made you mine and the debt was paid. You already got what you deserved, Type. What you deserved was forgiveness."

Type blinked for a second before leaning in. He leaned in slowly and stole Tharn's lips in a kiss of passion.

"I'm sorry I lied." Type said when they parted.

Tharn smiled and kissed his forehead. "You're forgiven."

"I'm sorry I worried you." Type bit his lip, looking at Tharn expectantly.

Tharn leaned down and kissed Type's cheek. "I forgive you."

"I'm sorry I was such an ass." He apologized, already tilting his head towards Tharn.

Tharn chuckled and kissed him on the nose. "It's alright."

"I'm sorry you were such an ass." Type smiled softly.

"Yeah?" Tharn challenged, but it was light.

Type nodded, taking the initiative and kissing Tharn for him on the cheek. "Yes."

"I am too." Tharn nodded. "I was just so confused, and hurt, and angry-- but those aren't excuses, I shouldn't have said those things."

"I forgive you." Type smiled leaning into Tharn's shoulder and threading their fingers together.

Tharn hummed and kissed Type on the head.

They waded in the pool of silence while the quiet of the night enveloped them for a long awaited moment of peace. Both felt like they could finally breathe as they drowned in it.

So they did.

They sat together on the edge of their bed, as close to each other as they could be, and held each other for a long while.

"You're not a shitty boyfriend." Type spoke up after a while. The point weighing down on his mind now that they were clearing the air. "I didn't mean it."

Tharn tensed around Type, but eventually nodded to the best of his ability. "I know."

"The truth is you're better to me than I deserve." Type chuckled lightly. "And try not to let that go to your head."

"Too late." Tharn smiled. "My ego is bigger now. Thank you, baby. I know I'm the best boyfriend ever."

Type hit Tharn's thigh with his available hand, but otherwise didn't protest.

"And that's not the truth." Tharn added. "I treat you exactly as you deserve, my beautiful wife."

"Of course you should." Type sat up, squaring Tharn with a serious look. "It is the husband's job to take good care of his wife."

"It is." Tharn rubbed his nose against Type's cheek. "Is there anything I can do for you now, my wife?"

"You can give me the bed tonight." Type nodded. "I am extra tired from our fight and I'll need the whole blanket to myself to soothe me."

"Oh?" Tharn sat back a little. "And where will I sleep?"

"You can take the couch." Type reasoned.

Tharn shook his head, laying Type back and tucking him under the sheets. "You shouldn't let the bed alone soothe your troubles, Type. I am here for that too."

Tharn lifted the blanket and followed Type underneath. He pulled Type's flush against him and tucked Type's head into his shoulder, cold hands came up to curl at Tharn's chest. Not yet satisfied, Tharn tangled their legs together and pulled Type further in, keeping a loose arm around Type's hip while the other arm became Type's pillow.

"You see?" Tharn sighed in content. It's been over a week since he's been allowed to hold Type close like this in bed. "This is much better than being alone."

Type burrowed deeper into Tharn, releasing a sigh of his own, his stress from the week finally, _finally_ dissipating as he exhaled.

"I suppose so." Type yawned.

Tharn kissed his head. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Type hummed, already succumbing to the lulls of heavy sleep. "Sweet dreams." He mumbled out.

It wasn't long before they had both finally drifted to sleep.

///

EPILOGUE

“Well, well, well,” A smug voice from behind Type had him stopped in his tracks. The familiar face that was stepping in his path had him clutching his backpack strap tighter in his grip. “Look who it is. The faggot piece of shit we taught a lesson to a couple days ago.”

“Got anything to say today, homo?” The one in front scoffed.

“Eat shit, asshole.” Type snarled.

The four boys surrounded him, laughing.

“Oh ho, ho, looks like the boywhore found his voice.” The one on the left shoved him.

Type threw his bag on the ground. “Don’t fucking touch me, ingrate. I let you fuckheads walk away last time. Different story today.”

He might have let them have their way with him once, he felt like he owed it to Tharn. But that was due diligence, this was bullying. Type didn’t stand to be bullied. He was no fucking push over.

“Think you can take all of us, bitch?” The one behind him shoved him again.

The one in front reached out to snatch his collar like the first day but Type didn’t let him. He caught both wrists and threw the guy back with a growl, he punched him right in the face and the kid was down with a harsh kick to the stomach.

Type smirked with a nod. “Yeah, shitweed. I think you’re all a bunch of pussies who only got me last time cause I let you.” He faced the other three. "And I think I can take you all."

“You gay fucking slut!” The one on the right announced his attack by shouting as he swung.

Type smiled, this was gonna be fun.

///

Type loomed forebodingly over the last asshole he'd thrown down. "And that's what happens when you piss me off."

The kid stayed down, holding his injured leg close to himself. "What the fuck is wrong with you? F- fagg--"

"Yeah I'm a homo." Type nodded, stepping up to the kid, who flinched harshly. "And a fag. And a gay. And whatever fucking else you want to throw at me. But you know what? I'm fucking proud of it, you dicks. Oh and," Type kicked the one who seemed to be their leader. He groaned on impact and curled in where the pain radiated. Type squatted down where he curled and lowly threatened. "Don't ever mess with me or shit talk my boyfriend ever again, you got it? This is your only warning." He stood back looked at the four bleeding and groaning boys at his feet and sneered. "I won't go so easy on you next time."

"Type!"

Type turned around to see Tharn staring at him with wide eyes at the end of the pavement where the building curved.

"Don't worry!" Type waved with a smile. "We're good, I was just finishing up."

Tharn jogged up to him, taking in the situation before him one step at a time. "So," he looked down at the bodies before them, "these are them?"

"Told you they weren't shit." Type nodded. He wrapped his arm around Tharn's waist. "I handled them easy."

"Is anyone dead?" Tharn asked pensively.

Type shrugged. "Probably not. I think we're okay."

"Alright, we're leaving now." Tharn said nervously, looking around to see if anyone nearby was witnessing this. "Are _you_ okay?" He asked as he pulled Type by the shoulders away from his own crime scene.

Type smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good." Tharn sighed. He checked Type's body. "They didn't hurt you again, did they?"

Type scoffed. "Those assholes? No. They could barely see me. Much less hit me."

"You didn't have to let them the first time," Tharn pouted as they rounded the corner. "If they were so easy to beat."

Type sighed and nodded. "But everything's okay now, right? And they're never gonna bother us again."

"They better not." Tharn nodded. "Or you're gonna have to let me go after them."

Type laughed. "Yeah, okay."

"What?" Tharn huffed. "Don't think I could do it?"

"No, no. You could." Type admitted. "I just think I'd actually pay to see you fight anyone, let alone four guys."

"Oh yeah?" Tharn smirked. "You'll pay for that comment."

"Do your worst." Type dared.

And then Tharn kissed his challenges quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


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